Périodicité
by Goth-Punk88
Summary: Since her twelve birthday, June 20 has not been an ordinary day for Uzumaki Karin. - SasuKarin.


**Title**: périodicité  
**By**: Kanae (Goth-Punk88)  
**Rating**: K+  
**Word Count**: 2.817  
**Author's Notes**: Made for our "Karin's birthday week" over at the Ice&Spice FC NF, back in 2012. It's been nearly two years but I finally remembered to post it here, too.  
**Warning**: It's been this long and I still don't know _what_ this is, or where it came from. And it's possibly one of the cheesiest pieces I've written for SK. But I kind of regret nothing.  
**Summary**: June 20 has never been an ordinary day for Uzumaki Karin.

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**_périodicité (periodicity)_**  
_"recurrence at regular intervals of time."_

_._

_._

**Périodicité**

by Kanae

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* * *

_—_

_"__Don't look so down, darling. This is a great chance for you."  
"Yeah… a great chance to make a fool of myself, you mean."_  
A twinkling laugh, a hand warmly lands over a girl's head _and_—

.

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At twelve, there aren't many things that Karin has done or that she wishes to do. She is just an ordinary girl from an ordinary family living in an ordinary village; there is nothing special about her. Nothing out of the norm, nothing that makes her stand out—if one ignores her flagrant red hair, that is.

But that is just what her father seems to want.

_You're going out? Don't forget to put your hood on, Karin_, he says, whenever Karin has to wander too far away. _Why?_ She used to ask, when she was no more than a little girl; but that is an habit that slowly but surely withers and dies away as she begins to grow up. As she starts to grow aware enough to notice the wary air her father's kind, wise red eyes acquire as the reminder leaves his lips.

As she grows older, Karin learns to recognize it for what it truly is: more a warning than an advice. She grows more jittery as result, more worn at the seams.

Her red hair is her only outstanding trait, the only thing that makes her different—without it, Karin may as well fade into the scenery.

She may as well not exist.

* * *

_—_

—and ruffles her hair.  
_"Now, now, don't be like that. I have a good feeling about this, you know?"  
"…What do you mean, mama?"_  
A secretive smile highlighted _by_—

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At thirteen, Karin nearly dies.

And then she is being _saved_—saved by a striking boy with a rich voice and eyes that warm her up to the core the moment he smiles—_at her_, for her—and suddenly, Karin does not feel so ordinary anymore.

_There is something different about you_, her mother tells her with a knowing smile, _ever since you came back from Konoha_.  
Karin jumps in her seat, awkward denial bubbling up in her throat and evaporating the moment the woman laughs. _I like it. You look prettier, Karin._

She does not know about _that_—can't see any difference as she looks at herself in the mirror, self-consciously pulling on some strands of red hair and squinting at her reflection.

What she _does_ know, though—what she can't forget, _is_—

_See ya_, he said. It takes Karin a surprising amount of time to realize that, for the first time since she can remember, there is something she wants.

Wants for _herself_; not for her parents, not for those she cares about. Something that is completely hers, in all its staggering intensity and youthful hope.

_See ya_, he said. And with his promise Karin discovers how good it feels to feel alive.

* * *

_—_

—by amber eyes that seem to spark.  
_"Ara~ I wonder if I should tell you. It just so happens to be a highly-guarded secret."  
"I will keep it, I promise! I won't tell anybody!"_  
A chuckle, _"Alright, alright! Since you insist, I'll tell you. It_—"

.

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At fourteen, Karin breathes her last breath.

There is no blood—_not hers_—involved, nor are there any wounds—_not physical ones_—or any white walls or tunnels and gates of light—_no light, only dark. _There is only smoke_—only the smell of burnt flesh and intest_—

There is, however, anguish. An agony so great that Karin bites her lip until it bleeds, fists her palms until her nails leave permanent crescent-moon shaped scars in the contours of her skin, new batches added to already cracked life lines.

There are silent, chocked sobs that make her throat burn and her sight blur until she runs out of tears.

And there is also horror. A burning, paralyzing sort of horror that reaches its peak and fades into a mute but perpetual tune stringing the chords of her being as she comes back and stares at the corpses of her father and mother, unrecognizable masses of ashes retching of burnt blood and bodily fluids that make a pile of vile crawl its way up to her tongue.

And then, there is _the boy_—sidestepping the man with ominous dark chakra and extending a hand towards her, dark eyes boring into her own with the same might with which the understanding in his chakra drives her horror away.

_You staying here will amount to nothing, but you leaving just might_, he says. _Come, Karin_, he calls.

She takes his hand, and there is hope.

* * *

_—_

_"—__It is said that one too many women in our family have found their fate in the lands of Konohagakure."  
"Their… fate?"_  
Her voice curls up around the edges, as if it were a spell.  
_"You will understand in—"_

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At fifteen, Karin has shed her skin.

There are now sharp edges where there used to be soft contours; angry frowns where there was kindness, smirks where there were smiles; buoyancy where there once was shame, barriers in what once were vast landscapes. And there are also scars.

Tell-tale scars of the Karin she used to be and new, revolting ones from the Karin she has become. She hides the latter and denies the former; pretends they're long gone, never aching, never hurting anymore.

Yet, he sees them all as if she wore them on her sleeve.

"Say, Sasuke... Since we're alone how about _we_—"  
"I have to leave soon, Karin."

She puts her glasses back on and crosses her arms with a frown, moving away from him. "Tch. You only just got here! _Why_ did you even bother coming, then?"

Sasuke says nothing. He says nothing and Karin straightens, her back suddenly assaulted by gooseflesh. _Could he_—?

No, there is no way he could have. This date is hers and hers alone. There is no way Sasuke could have known that before his unexpected arrival, Karin had been hounded by her memories. That she saw familiar faces in the nameless prisoners of the base; ghosts coming back to haunt her and pull her down with them to the depths of the burning hell she escaped from. A hell made of nothing but flames and guilt from mistakes she is not sure she would take back, even if she could.

There is no way he could have known, because only she remembers.

"…I had business here, is all."

His voice reaches out to her through the haze of her thoughts, pulling her back with nonchalant words that seem devoid of meaning.

But as she turns and her eyes meet his, Karin _sees_.

* * *

—

_"—__in due time, Karin."  
"Still, mom… it just isn't fair."  
"What isn't, dear?"  
"… I wanted to spend my birthday with you and dad."_  
Her _smile_—

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At sixteen, Karin falls.

She falls from a great, great height at appalling speed; she doesn't even have time to acknowledge the abyss before she hits rock bottom, her goals and dreams spilling through her open chest and pooling on the ground alongside everything she knows.

Alongside everything she once held dear. Everyone she relied on. The one she trusted.

Now, there is no one left.

No one left but the roaming, empty carcass of the boy she once loved. The boy who taught her what it felt like to be alive, the boy who gave her hope and helped her find meaning back when she had lost her way. The boy who helped her to be reborn from her ashes into someone better; someone stronger, someone capable of standing up for herself and for _him_, too. The boy who flared her will and her drive with a single touch, with a single look, with the simplest of words—

_I need you._

"So much for that," Karin mutters to no one, her back pressed against the cold walls of a cell and her fingers absentmindedly tracing the ghost of the wound that took her heart out for good.

And then it comes. An almost unnoticeable flicker—too subtle to be perceived, but too longed for to be ignored.

_No… there's no way I'm going through that again. I've had enough of you, Sasuke. _So she says, but her withered heart is trying to beat again, and it makes up her mind for her.

"…So much for _this,"_ Karin murmurs to herself.

And then she is on her feet again, her inner eye tracing his every move.

* * *

—

—melts.  
_"Cheer up, love. There will be many birthdays left for us to celebrate together."  
"… You promise?"_  
Her gaze softens.  
_"I promise."_

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At seventeen, Karin kisses him.

She impulsively crashes her lips against his, her arms thrown around his neck in a desperate attempt to hold onto him—to anchor him down before his essence could have the chance to fade into pitch black darkness again. To feel him before he could have the chance to waste his life—_her life, their future_—chasing phantoms all the way to the death.

When the impromptu kiss ends, Karin sees _him_—the Sasuke she knows, the Sasuke she loves—flickering across his eyes for the briefest of moments, and she hears her name resounding in her ears even though he has not uttered a single sound.

She smiles, trembling eyes boring into his—and wordlessly lets him go.

She has given him a reason, but only he can choose.

* * *

—

_"__Ha, so it _was_ about a boy. I knew it!"  
"Shh, mom! I don't want dad to hear! And… it's not like I'm ever going to see him again, _anyway._"_  
Her mother has to hide her smile, _"Actually, Karin… something tells me you just might."_

.

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At eighteen, Sasuke kisses her back.

It is not nearly as passionate as her—_their_—first kiss had been; there is no desperation, no adrenaline. But there is craving all the same, even in serenity threading over her through the gentle pressure of his fingertips over the nape of her neck, enveloping her like a makeshift cloak and warming her down to her very core.

And Karin feels her very essence quiver under it—under the warmth and the way her heart seems to want to leave her chest to jump into his instead, to claim the home it has always longed for; the home it has always fought for.

The home it _belongs_ to.

As he kisses her, Karin feels like she will vaporize into Sasuke if he takes a single breath.

* * *

—

_"__How do you know?"  
"Because, that's how fate works, Karin."_

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At nineteen, Karin smiles.

"Itachi," she says. Sasuke looks up to her, startled. "The name… _Itachi_. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

Sasuke parts his lips—once, twice—but no sound comes out and soon enough he gives up altogether, lowering his eyes to stare at the bundle in his arms. It stares back at him, impossibly red eyes widened with innocent curiosity, pink tongue sticking out from underneath rosy lips.

"Are you sure, Karin?" he whispers after what seems like an eternity, and Karin's smile only widens.

"Yeah."

And as she sees them—as she sees Sasuke hold their baby as if he were holding the whole, wide world in the crook of his arms—Karin remembers her mother with such vivid clarity that she catches a breath of her perfume. The memory—the _vision_ is bittersweet, and it makes Karin's throat clog, because she _recognizes_ that look.

It's the way her mother used to look at her father and her, eyes brimming with love and pride, unspoken but ever-present, never changing, never wavering. Karin had not been able to understand it, _then_—

But she does, now. And the understanding squeezes her heart in a way that is both, wonderful and terrible. To think it took her this long to finally understand, once and for all, what it all meant.

To understand who her mother truly was, what her mother felt, what her mother desired for her—and how her mother _hurt_.

_You're special, Karin_. She told her sometimes, her eyes half-lidded and afflicted by thoughts she would never get the chance to say aloud. _One day, you will realize that_.

She realizes it, now. What it means to love to her roots, what it means to be a woman.

An _Uzumaki_ woman.

"… Thank you, Karin."

"Idiot," she shakes her head, traitorous tears prickling at the corners of her eyes and threatening to spill. "That... should be my line."

* * *

—

_"__They will be here soon."  
"Who?"  
"It could be anyone,"_ she finally replies, and her hold is steady as she combs through Karin's hair. _"We have long since lost any care for their identities, Karin. What matters is… what their presence means."  
"And what is that?"_  
Her silence provides the only answer, and Karin wishes it weren't enough.

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At twenty, Karin celebrates her birthday for the first time in seven years.

And it starts with a soft but firm admittance whispered as she pokes the baby's nose, all too aware of the pleasant weight of Sasuke's gaze, of the feelings swirling in his chakra.

_Hearing_ them is unexpected, however. Her widened eyes snap to his only to find his lips beginning to curve. "W—what was _that_ about?"

Some habits are harder to break than others. Her awkward way of fighting down her embarrassment seems to be one of the hard ones.

Sasuke doesn't seem to mind, though. If anything, his smile seems to morph into an amused smirk as he shrugs, noncommittally. "I just felt like saying it, is all."

"Dumbass," she mutters, hoping the darkness will hide the way her cheeks have warmed up like bonfires, so reminiscent of her prepubescent days when all she could do was _dream_ she would one day lay with Sasuke the way she does now. "'S not like you needed to, I can feel your chakra just fine."

"I _know_, Karin," he rolls his eyes at her, the ass. But she forgives and forgets the moment he gives her that smile; the one that stole her heart all those years ago. "But it still felt good to say it."

Karin has nothing to say in response, so she just snuggles closer to him, eyes on Itachi as he opens his eyes and blinks, his little hands curling and uncurling up into the air.

"He is going to be strong," Sasuke assesses. Karin would have mocked him for how ridiculous it is that he sounds _that_ proud of Itachi when the baby hasn't even said his first word yet, weren't it because she feels the same way.

He _will_ be strong. A little piece of herself and Sasuke—a memento of those who gave their life up for them. A torch for those who granted them the chance to live this moment.

To live this happiness.

"Happy birthday, Itachi," she whispers, and squeezes Sasuke's hand. "I love you."

The words feel dusty, and unknown—but familiar.

She knew them, once.

She has known them all along.

* * *

—

_I'm sorry, Karin_.

Were the last words her mother told her before her father ushered her out of the house and prompted her to _run_—run as far as she could, away from _them_—and forced her to leave them to die.

To _survive_.

Those words used to haunt Karin in the nights when sleep refused to lend her its hand, the eerie walls of Orochimaru's hideout caving in on her and Sasuke's steady chakra being her only relief, her only shield.

Yet, what haunted her weren't the words themselves, but their meaning. Karin instinctively knew then, just as clearly as she knows now, that her mother was not apologizing for forcing her to forsake them and live on.

No, that was not it—that was not the kind of woman her mother was.

Instead, she apologized for something else entirely.

_For the unsaid_.

"What are you thinking about, Karin?"

Her lips curl upward as he takes the seat by her side, any regrets fading away into the evening sky.

"Nothing." She threads her fingers through his and gazes back at their children, who are laughing and running together through the backyard, a lively mixture of reds and blacks; the Uchiha and Uzumaki crests proudly etched on their backs, on their hearts.

"Nothing at all."

* * *

—

_"You will be fine."_

And through the tears and the pain and the loneliness and the longing and the hardships and the fear, Karin should have known better.

Her mother was always right.

**—**

* * *

**end.**

Basically: Uzumaki feelings. Uzumaki feelings everywhere. I tried to play with the different facets of Karin and how she grows into each one of them, plus also include some bits that could relate to Kushina's and Mito's old conversation about love.

The stuff I wrote here is not quite how I see things going, though; mostly when it concerns Karin's past. I was just indulging myself and exploring some scenarios I thought about.

Oh and while I did not state it in the fic: every vignette takes place on Karin's birthday, so the baby was born on June 20, too.

Anyway, hopefully it wasn't that terrible! And my apologies for any and every mistake: English is still not my native language.

If you read this far: thank you!

- Kanae


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